


The More Or Less Normal Day

by afteriwake



Series: Anything Can Happen [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 22:17:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock goes about his day working on a case and then going home to Molly. It's not a very special day, but that's what he likes most about it, that most of his days are like this now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The More Or Less Normal Day

**Author's Note:**

> And another one not inspired by a prompt. I wanted to show something mentioned in the first story, that he and Sally have a pretty decent relationship now and actually get along (even if she would take Molly's side if Molly and Sherlock ever had a fight).

“So. You two are moving back home?” Lestrade asked as he and Sherlock were at his office at Scotland Yard. It had been nearly three days since Molly agreed to marry him, but this was the first time he had seen Lestrade since that point. “And she's marrying you to boot?”

Sherlock nodded. “The heat was turned back on in her home so she's there packing. It didn't take very long for the sitting room to be redone, and the furniture we aren't planning to keep is in the basement for the moment.”

Lestrade grinned slightly. “What do you plan to do with it?” he asked.

“Donate it, I suppose,” Sherlock said after a moment.

“Think you might want to sell it?” he asked. Sherlock raised an eyebrow slightly. “It's been a few years and I still have the same shoddy furniture that came with my flat. Since I plan on moving and I don't feel like shopping for new furniture I might be able to take it off your hands.”

“I don't think Mrs. Hudson would mind,” he replied thoughtfully. “Molly also has a table, chairs and a more traditional bedroom set she won't be keeping, as she likes my furniture more. It's not overtly feminine, and it's good quality. The only thing she plans on keeping is the vanity, and that fits in well with my things.”

“Oh, you're saving my sanity,” Lestrade said with a wide grin. “I'll find a way to buy it all.”

“As my friend I think we can sell it all to you quite cheaply,” Sherlock said with a bit of a grin. “It means more space for us.” He looked over the file Lestrade had handed him to read and a serious look crossed his face as he began to read it. “Molly will be assisting me for the next few months.”

“Yeah, I've been dealing with her replacement,” he said with a slight grimace. “He's not nearly as competent. It's going to take some getting used to. But if she can't do the job she's making the right decision to teach.”

“How amenable do you think her replacement would be to allowing me to run experiments still?” Sherlock asked.

“Well, he's a fan of yours. I think he'd be just fine with it.” Sherlock grinned slightly. “And St. Bart's has already given you blanket permission, if it's in the interest of a case. He'd be overridden even if he had objections.”

“I keep forgetting that.”

“You've been back for just over two years,” he said. “Most people accepted the truth a long time ago.”

“I know. I think it will still take some time for me to adjust, however. There have been many changes.”

“Yes, there has,” Lestrade said with a nod. There was a knock on the office door. Sherlock looked up and saw Sally poke her head in. “Yes?” he asked.

“Greg, Sherlock. Looks like there's a new crime scene associated with the case you're working on. We should go take a look,” she said. Then she paused. “You two should go, I mean. It's your case, not mine.”

“Still getting used to your promotion?” Sherlock asked.

Sally blinked for a moment, and then smiled at him. She was still getting used to him not being an arrogant arse, he knew that much, but she honestly did prefer him now. She'd even called him in for a consult a few weeks before, of her own volition. “Yeah. It's nice, though.” She turned to Lestrade. “I'm sorry I got the better subordinate when I stopped working under you, Greg.”

Lestrade waved his hand. “You needed someone more seasoned. I can handle a green Lieutenant.”

Sally's grin turned into a smirk. “Yeah, when you don't want to wring his scrawny neck. I see the looks you give him. Admit it, you miss me.”

“I'll admit no such thing,” he said, though he was grinning.

Sally chuckled, and then she turned back to Sherlock. “Molly said you proposed. Bit soon, isn't it?”

“Perhaps,” Sherlock said. “But we aren't exactly a conventional couple.”

“That's very true. Still, I think it's a good thing. She was practically glowing when we had lunch yesterday.” She fixed him with a stare. “Just don't screw things up or I'll have to hurt you.”

“I haven't so far,” he pointed out.

“Exactly. Keep doing what you're doing.” She glanced down at her watch. “I have a briefing in ten minutes. Need to go find out what we've done so far on our case. I'll see you both later.” With that, she closed the door.

“You're getting stuff like that from everyone, aren't you?” Lestrade asked in an amused tone as he and Sherlock stood.

“A bit,” Sherlock said with a nod, setting the file on Lestrade's desk. “Not so many overt threats, however. But a lot of the 'this is rather soon' comments. Still, everyone seems to be accepting of it.”

“It's because the both of you are blissfully happy,” Lestrade said with a grin as he came around his desk. “I mean, if _you_ can fall in love and be happy and want to get married, it gives hope to the rest of us that we'll get the same.”

“I hadn't thought about it that way,” Sherlock mused as they made it to the door and Lestrade opened it. “It's definitely something to think about.”

“Well, concentrate on the case for now,” Lestrade said with a nod. “That's more important.”

“At the moment it is,” he replied. The two of them left at that point and traveled to the crime scene. Sherlock got more information from it, but not enough for the solution to become immediately apparent. He decided to go back to Molly's home and talk things over with her, see if she could give him some insight. She had given him a key the second day they were there, and now he let himself in. The sight of stacks of boxes and packing supplies met his eye and he grinned. He liked this concrete sign that she was leaving this place behind. “I'm back,” he said.

“Sherlock?” she said from behind a wall of boxes. It took her a moment but she stood up and he saw her hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail and she was dressed in clothing she didn't mind getting dirty. “How is the case?”

“There's been another suspicious death,” he said, coming in more. “I thought I could go over the particulars and see what insights you might have.”

She nodded. “Of course. Mind if I get something to eat while we talk? I'm famished.”

He gave her an amused glance as he took off his greatcoat and then his suit jacket, hanging them both up by the door. “Have you eaten anything since breakfast?”

“Nope. Been too busy packing.”

“I should be helping more,” he said, frowning slightly.

“You're working and I'm not,” she said, moving over towards him. “And it's my place. It makes sense if I'm doing most of the work.” Then her eyes got wide and she looked slightly excited. “You'll never guess what I did today.”

“What?” he asked.

“I put my knives away in a box.”

He grinned slightly. “You actually willingly picked them up?” She nodded, a grin on her face. “That's a good first step, Molly,” he said, closing the distance between them and tipping her face up. “I'm very happy to hear that.”

“I didn't use them, but that might happen soon,” she said with a smile. “Then you don't have to dice everything all the time.”

“I don't mind,” he said. “But that is good news.” He leaned in and kissed her softly. After a moment she pulled away and nodded towards the kitchen. “You really must be hungry,” he said as she grabbed his hand and pulled him slightly.

“Starving. What time is it?”

“Nearly four.”

“Wow. I didn't realize it was that late,” she said.

“Why don't I start to prepare dinner while you get something to snack on? It's nearly that time anyway.”

“I can have some saltines and cheese,” she said before going to her pantry. “What are you planning on making, anyway?”

“I'm not quite sure yet. I know we had a few things to choose from, so I was going to rummage around and see what there was.”

“You know, you're actually quite a good cook when left to your own devices,” she said, pulling down a box of saltines. Then she went to the refrigerator and got the cheese cubes Sherlock had bought so she could snack on cheese without having to cut it herself. She took all of it to the table. “When I first moved in I thought you would be a terrible cook.”

“I had to survive before I met John,” he said, looking through the refrigerator. “I could cook, but since I barely ate because I would spend more time concentrating on cases I usually got a large amount of take-out and ate a little of that when the hunger would get overwhelming.”

“You didn't seem to take good care of yourself while you were gone,” she said, taking one of the cheese cubes and putting it on a saltine before taking a bite.

“No, I didn't. I was trying to eradicate the empire Moriarty had left behind, and I did it with a singular sense of purpose. It was my driving goal.” He pulled some things out. “And then I came home and John had moved out and there was no one to remind me to take care of myself until you moved in.”

“At least I take good care of you,” she said with a smile.

“Yes, you do,” he said with a nod, closing the refrigerator door. He went to the pantry and looked through it, pulling a few things out.

“You've taken really good care of me the last few months, too,” she said. “You've been patient and understanding when I really needed it.”

“It was returning a favor,” he said.

“Was that all it was?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“No. It was a small part, but I also knew that was what you needed, and I care enough about you to want to help you as best I could.”

“It's because you love me,” she said with a smile when she caught his eyes.

He gave her a smile in return. “Yes, I suppose it is, when it all comes down to it.”

“I can't get enough of hearing you say it,” she said. “I mean, I'd never had a relationship where it's been said.”

“Really?” he asked, slightly surprised.

She nodded. “I mean, I had long relationships, though not as long as this one. Part of the reason they ended is because there wasn't love involved. I wanted it and I felt I deserved it and they weren't giving it to me.” She finished the first saltine and set up another before taking a bite. “I had the feeling that if you let yourself fall in love with me this would be the last relationship I would be in.”

“I hope it is,” he said. “Unless I die first. Then I want you to be happy again with someone else.”

“I don't even want to think about that,” she said, shaking her head. Then she was quiet. “Okay, before we drop this topic, if I die first, would you find someone else?”

“No,” he said. “I don't think I would want to.”

“If you did, that would be fine,” she said.

“I know, but I get the feeling it would not appeal to me. Circumstances might change, I'll concede that, but I highly doubt it.”

“Is it bad I'm kind of happy that's your point of view?” she asked, finishing her saltine.

“Not really, no.”

She picked up another saltine but didn't put cheese on top of it, nibbling at it. “Let's change the subject. Why don't you start going over the case you're working on? You can tell me what you observed on the newest body.”

“All right,” he said with a nod. He launched into the details from the first crime scene to give her some background, then he told her about the scene he had observed today as he began to prepare dinner. When he was done with setting things up he went over to the table and they continued to talk as he helped himself to some of her snack. Her insights were very helpful, he realized as the conversation tapered off. “I have much to consider,” he said, popping a cheese cube in his mouth.

She swatted his arm. “You ate more of the cheese than I did,” she said. “Stop that.”

“I'm hungry too,” he said.

“Well, dinner will be ready soon,” she said.

“It's a large roast. It's got some time before it's fully cooked. At least an hour and a half, though I'll have to check on it in forty minutes.” He looked at her and licked his lip slightly. “And we're done with the case for the moment.”

“So you have something in mind?” she asked with a grin, leaning forward more.

“I do,” he said with a nod, moving his chair closer to hers. He reached over a bit and pulled her off her chair, and she settled on his lap a moment after that. “Apparently food is not the only thing I'm hungry for.”

She laughed. “It's a good thing my bed is still here.”

“I had thought, while we still had some privacy, we might try someplace else,” he murmured.

She raised an eyebrow, giving him an amused look. “Oh, you really do want to shag, don't you?” she asked.

He didn't respond, instead moving his hand up to pull her in for a kiss. She kissed him back hungrily, and he found himself enjoying it just as he had the other times. There was something about kissing her that intoxicated him unlike any of the drugs he had done in his youth. He always wanted more and he couldn't get enough of her. Sometimes he worried there might be a day when this was not the case, but he hoped if that day ever came it was a long time off. He stopped thinking when her fingers went for the buttons of his shirt, though, and lost himself in the moment. There would be a time for thinking later, he told himself as she shifted her position slightly to finish unbuttoning his shirt. Right now was a time for enjoying the moment before it slipped through his fingers and was gone.


End file.
